Page:To-morrow Morning (1927).pdf/249

 for her last summer and that she still considered rather too conspicuous, slamming the door shut and hiding the key under the mat.

Joe, coming back through the grasses, looked toward his wife with a pure flooding out of love. "Evelyn," he said to himself, silently, answering everything.

The ground was beginning to develop hard bumps; insects strolled ticklingly across her face. She sat up, yawning, stretching her arms to reach the sun, the sky.

"Evelyn! Come here! Here's a wonderful patch!"

"Bring some here!"

"Lazybones!"

"Joe!"

"What?"

"You come here! I want to say something tender, and I can't yell it across a field and a half. And bring the strawberries. Gosh! what a bandanna! Really, Mr. Green dearie, do you expect me to eat them out of that?"

"Hey! Leave me some!"

"Joe—I'm too happy—it frightens me."

"Are you, darling?"

"Hear the church bells."

"You ought to be there telling God you're a miserable sinner."

"You ought to be there in a cutaway coat putting old ladies into pews and marching up the aisle with the collection plate."